The Past Can Hurt
by Gotham's Siren
Summary: Batman's different selves begin to take over, leaving Superman, Wonder Woman, and The Flash to travel deep into Batman's mind and unlock what makes the Bat tick.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Not sure how I like it….but I wanted to see what everyone else would think. No pairings, at least no official pairings XD. Enjoy…XP**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot **

**Chapter 1**

"What do you mean, _I don't know?" _Wonder Woman hissed, her hands resting on her hips as she glared at the Martian.

"I have never encountered such an advanced case before, I wouldn't know until I tried if I would hurt him by entering his mind." The other hero replied evenly, looking down at the unconscious vigilante laying on the exam-table between them.

"We can't just stand here and do nothing." Superman's arms folded over his chest, looking very much the leader he claimed to be.

"I still don't think Bats would want us in his head." Flash said, shifting from one foot to the other restlessly.

"He wouldn't want _you_ in his head." Superman gave the younger hero a small smile before turning to face J'onn, his smile vanishing. "I think we should try, Batman might not want us to invade his mind but he wouldn't want to be stuck like-"He glanced at the unconscious man "-like that."

J'onn gave the Martian equivalent of a sigh before turning to face them. "I agree, though I must warn you, Batman is not-"He seemed to struggle with his words for a moment, "-stable. I do not know if he will recognize us."

A solemn silence filled the air before Flash stepped forward, his hand reaching behind him to rub the nape of his neck nervously, "I don't really think I should go, I mean Bats doesn't really like me…"

"Actually, I believe it would be better if you did go…Batman…his-"Again, J'onn seemed to stumble over his words. "Part of his personality might enjoy you being there." He turned to see the confused looks on his team mate's faces. "I am unable to explain properly, but it seems as if part of Batman's personality is still a child, and that he might enjoy Flash's optimistic outlook on life." When none of them responded he turned back to Batman, placing his hands on the sides of Batman's head, his eyes beginning to glow.

"I will stay behind to be sure the link remains stable and to be sure if any of you are put in danger..." He let his voice trail off, warning them of the dangers they were going to face.

Their vision returned slowly, bright sunlight making them cringe and raise their hands to shield their eyes. A child's laughter danced on the wind, making them open their eyes and stare in both wonder and horror at the small raven-haired child that raced towards them.

"I knew you would come!" He grinned as they continued to stare at him, their mouths hanging open in shock, they had _never _seen Bruce smile. The young boy turned as his parents walked toward the small group, stopping a few feet away, apprehension clearly written on both of their faces. Bruce gave a patient smile, pulling on his parent's hands until they began to walk forward again. "It's okay Mom, Dad, I trust them, they're my friends, and they wouldn't hurt you."

"At this age you haven't even met us yet." Superman muttered, glancing at the small family with hardly hidden mistrust.

"I have all of my memories; I just display my reactions to them differently. Watch –" Bruce laughed; removing his hands from his parent's to pull his jacket around himself, as he often did with his cape when he was older. He lowered his voice, his face suddenly becoming serious as he growled, "I am vengeance, I am the night….I am Batman!" His pretended stoic façade crumbled and he broke down into a fit of childish giggles.

His childish laughter wrenched at the hearts of his friends and comrades, this was the concealed happiness that Bruce had hiddenso well, the small boy that he had once been.

Bruce suddenly turned to face his parents. "I should go; I've got to help them save him."

The two Wayne's nodded, holding their son close to them, both giving him a kiss before walking away from their son, looking back at him over their shoulder with slightly worried expressions.

"Why aren't they talking?" Superman gazed at the young version of his friend before watching as his parents walked away from them.

Bruce stopped, his smile fading as he looked up at them, "I-I don't remember what they sound like, so they can't talk to me. They can only say certain things and the words sound….distorted and strange; so I asked them to stop talking. It's…easier to pretend that way."

"So how do we help you?" Flash asked suddenly, breaking the odd silence that had gathered around them.

"Well…my mind..." He paused, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the appropriate words, "It's like a giant maze, and even I've never made it all the way through. I always get lost, only Wayne made it through, and he left without me…and never came back." Bruce frowned, wringing his hands together and biting his bottom lip softly.

"What are you talking about, I mean aren't you Bruce Wayne?" Flash asked, glancing at Superman to see an equally confused look on his face.

"Of course I am, but I'm not the _only _Bruce Wayne. There are four of us." He grinned when the other's jaws dropped again. "It's not _that _bad. There's me, the playboy, _him, _and just Bruce."

"Wh-what do you mean just Bruce?" Diana asked, raising her eyebrow in confusion, this man was certainly an enigma.

"Well, we're all a part of him. He's like the true Bruce Wayne, the real one. I-I can't explain properly but you'll see soon anyway." Bruce shrugged his shoulders playfully, smiling softly as Superman shook his head, an affectionate look gracing the strong features.

"And what did you mean by..._Him_?"

Bruce visibly paled, his hands trembling as he looked up at the heroes. "Him…he's darkness…fear…anger…hate…vengeance. He's the part of us that makes criminals fear the Batman; he's the one who makes us such a powerful hero. He appeared after-after they died. But he's grown stronger, taking over our mind, for his _mission." _Bruce spat the last word as if it were a curse,a small part of his Batman persona shining through.

"So where do we go first?" Diana asked, unable to look away as the small boy shuddered again, looking back at her with sorrow-filled eyes.

"Well, we should probably start at the beginning."__


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I actually like this one **____** angst….thought about posting it later but after discussing the matter with a friend I decided now would be better. As usual let me know what you think.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own anything DX**_

_**Chapter 2**_

The scenery around them began to change, grass melting into cold, unforgiving asphalt. Trees shredded their leaves, leaving their wood to mold into buildings. The city of Gotham formed around them, practically buzzing with life and culture. They stood in the heart of it, in a dark and abandoned alleyway.

Bruce turned, gazing at an older building with a slight sense of fear. "That's it." He pointed to the building's door with a shaking finger, unconsciously stepping closer to Superman.

"That's what?" Flash asked, watching as Bruce began to tremble, tears filling his eyes.

"That's what made us; watch." He pointed to the door again, grabbing Clark's cape with tiny hands and stepping behind him.

The three heroes watched as the door opened, a young couple walking outside, what looked like their young son walking in front of them.

"Bruce, is that-?" Diana began, tearing her eyes away from the young boy walking towards them to look at the equally young and frightened boy hiding behind Superman's cape.

Bruce put his hands over his ears, tears already beginning to run down his face as he shook his head violently. "I always get this far, but I always leave, back to where we were before. They're there… They're always there; they'll love me, and take this all away."His breathing became rapid and shallow, but his eyes still watched his parents and the other version of himself. "Here he comes, he's coming I can see him." He raised his hand again, pointing it in the opposite direction at a shadowy figure that crept forward, nearing the small family.

The man began to talk but they could not hear his words, they were too soft and distorted. A gun was pulled suddenly out of a coat pocket, making both Bruce's shudder in simultaneous fear. Bruce's father began to answer the man, offering him his wallet with a trembling hand. The man attempted to take it, pulling back sharply when it was suddenly dropped to the wet pavement. The gun was aimed again, pointed straight at Thomas Wayne's chest.

Flash tore his eyes away from the scene, not having the mental strength to look anymore. He knew what happened next, Supes had told him before. He didn't need to see it though, he had never wanted to see what made Bats the way he was. He knew it had been bad, but he had never imagined it would be so normal. Muggings like this one happened all the time in Gotham, Batman probably saved people from them every night. But there was no way the young Bruce Wayne could have ever stopped this one, he had just been a child; a small eight year old little boy that had gone to an opera with his parents.

But he knew Batman blamed himself for this, just like he knew he blamed himself for every other crime he had been unable to stop, all the people he had been unable to save; he knew them all. Flash had seen him once, sitting at the computer in the monitor room, gazing sadly at a picture of a young girl with blonde hair. Batman had stood when he had come in, closing the program before growling and stalking away quickly. He had forgotten to erase the history though, and Flash had seen what he had been looking at for the past three hours before he had arrived. Hundreds of pictures, short sentences written under most, others had lengthy descriptions. Most just said, "Another I failed to save."

Flash shook his head, memories scattering within his brain. He turned to see Bruce's face, half-hidden by Superman's cape. The young boy looked up at him with tear filled eyes, both of them screaming, _"Please! Please save them!"_Flash looked away, bitter bile rising in his throat.

The sudden sound of a gunshot rang through the alleyway and Bruce snapped, pulling away from the man of steel and running to the man as fast as his small legs would carry him. "I hate you! I hate you and I always will! It doesn't matter how many years you rot in prison! It doesn't matter how sorry you say you are, how much you say you regret it! I hate you! I hate you! I _**hate**_ you!"His voice broke and he sank to his knees just as second gunshot rang through the alley, the sound of the man running away filling their ears and the sight of blood-stained pearls falling to the ground at the same time their owner did.

Bruce kneeled next to his now-deceased parents, sobbing brokenly into his hands, "I didn't want to see this again, never again. They'll be gone now, I can't go back, they won't be there. They can't love me if they're dead."

Superman stepped closer, kneeling next to Bruce. The young boy looked up at him, his eyes red and tears coursing down his face. He suddenly reached for Clark, his arms going around his upper chest as far as they could reach and his head burying itself in the broad shoulder. "Why does it still hurt? It's been so long…" He trembled violently, small sobs wracking his body. "I've never understood why it hurts so much. I want it to stop, I-I want to stop hurting. But I love them, and I can't. No matter how hard I try, I can _never_ let them go." His voice cracked and he hugged Superman harder, the large man looking down at him tears in his own eyes.

"I miss them so much. And it's my fault; it's always been my fault. If I hadn't been scared-"He suddenly pulled away, his teeth bared and a feral snarl ripped from his throat. "If I hadn't been scared this never would have happened! I hate myself! I wish I were dead! If I had never been born…" His small fists began to pound into Superman's chest, knowing it wouldn't hurt him and needing to vent his anger and hurt in any way he could.

As quickly as his anger had appeared it drained from him, his small body slumping forward again, small hiccupping cries wrenched from his throat. Superman wrapped his arms around his young friend again, cradling his small head on his shoulder.

"If you had never been born, I wouldn't be alive. The League wouldn't exist. Gotham would be in ruins. You have saved so many people Bruce. I know it hurts, but it's that pain that makes you who you are, that makes you the great man we all know you are." Clark whispered, rubbing the small boy's back comfortingly.

"But they would still be alive, they would have had another child, they would have been happy. They would have been alive with the other child, without-without me. "Bruce murmured, still trembling slightly even though his tears had stopped.

"They didn't want another child, they wanted you."

Bruce looked up at him, his face red and blotchy, and his eyes bloodshot and wet, and smiled.

_**Please review….it helps motivate me XD**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Edit: It isn't much but I wanted to finish this chapter quickly. I hope I don't disappoint any of you but I really want to start on the next chapter. It'll be more interesting than this one. **_

_**A/N: Just wanted to let you know, in this story Bruce is NOT Christian Bale. I am basing him much more on the animated version's appearance. Bale is just a bit too small and thin for my liking, plus that growl….ugh. So please imagine Conroy's voice and animated appearance but Bale Batman's story-line. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Batman or any other people mentioned except my imaginary friend Batman….he's awesome by the way XD**_

_**Chapter 3**_

Bruce pushed Clark away before standing shakily and faced Diana and Flash. "Sorry, but we should go. I don't want to be here anymore." He looked back once at the bodies of his parents before walking forward.

Flash ran and caught up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Whoa! Hold up, maybe you should tell us where we're going first."

Bruce turned to face them, "The next memory, as we walk we'll be going forward in time. I don't bother with most of my _childhood. _Nothing valuable to _him_, so I know he won't be there."

"How far are we going forward in time?" Diana asked, watching as Bruce's brow furrowed.

"About twelve years or so. It's…it's his **trial.**" Bruce shuddered, but continued walking forward.

"Who's trial?"

Bruce looked back again, "His."

The courthouse was ancient, nearly as old as the city itself. Inside, equally old paintings hung on the wall, adding little décor to the antique building.

Bruce Wayne stood in front of the building, looking up at it with solemn eyes. He was much older now; his hair, once a golden brown was now a raven-black. His hazel eyes had lightened, becoming a dull teal. He had become tall and broad shouldered but he lacked the muscle he would later build. His shoulders were slumped, his posture bent. His hand was burrowed in his pocket, fingering something absentmindedly.

Young Bruce stepped forward, walking past the people crowded in the halls, his memory counterpart walking just ahead of him. He turned to look back at them every few moments or so, a weary but determined look on his young face. They stopped at the entrance to the hearing room, joining the others that had gathered outside the door.

He turned suddenly; at the same moment the older Bruce did; gazing down the hall. A small man was being escorted towards them by two police officers. The younger Bruce shied away, hiding behind Wally as he passed, gazing up at him with wide and fearful eyes. "That's him." He murmured, waiting several moments as the man walked away before following the crowd into the court room.

They sat in an empty row behind the older Bruce, watching carefully as the hearing began. Bruce sat between Clark and Diana, his hands clenched together tightly in his lap. He fidgeted nervously when Chill stood.

"Your Honor, not a day goes by that I don't wish I could take back what I did. Sure, I was desperate, like a lot of people back then but that don't change what I did." Chill said, his voice filled with a deep sense of regret.

Bruce glared at him, tears beginning to cloud his vision. "I hate you." He whispered.

"I gather there is a member of the Wayne family here today?" The judge asked, a bored and vacant expression on his face.

Bruce suddenly looked up as his older self stood, both of them staring at Chill with a hidden rage. Bruce suddenly stood up, brushing past his friends as his older self walked out of the building, following him closely. They stood outside watching silently as the elder Bruce closed his eyes wearily. Younger Bruce looked up at his older self. "Which one of us are you?" He murmured, his eyes narrowing when the older version's hand went to his pocket again. The older Bruce sighed, his free hand running through his darker hair wearily. His other hand suddenly grasped what he had been fingering in his pocket and he pulled it out with a slightly fearful expression.

Younger Bruce gasped, shying away from his older self when he saw the small gun lying in his counterpart's palm. "I-I remember that. I hated carrying it….it was so heavy in my hand. But…at the same time…I could feel its power. The power it gives to whoever holds it. And I-I liked it; I liked feeling that power, knowing I could end someone's life with a small amount of pressure to a simple metal trigger. It was horrible, feeling that way, it made me no better than **him** and I knew that…and I…I didn't care. I wanted him dead, I wanted to kill him with my own hands, to make him suffer the same way my parents had, a slow and painful death." Bruce shivered, his arms wrapping around his trembling form.

Clark looked down at his younger friend. "I know." He didn't know what to say, there was nothing he could do to comfort his young friend. So he pulled the boy close, feeling the smaller hands grasp his cape once more as he looked for any small amount of comfort.

"I don't ever want to feel that way again Clark."

Clark glanced down at Bruce, seeing the child's eyes were focused on his counterpart. He looked up at the older Bruce as well, seeing the younger man study the gun, a small smile on his face. Clark shivered; the man before them was lost, he was nothing like the man he would become. This man was entwined with the darkness within him. The Bruce he knew had learned to control it, to wield his darkness as a weapon. It was what made him so powerful; his ability to look deep into the abyss, knowing that it was looking back into him and be able to keep looking. Lesser men turned away, not having the courage to let it stare back into them and see them as they truly are; Bruce had mastered it.

"Woah! What's going on?" Flash exclaimed as the sudden flashes of cameras diverted their attention from the memory Bruce to another man down the hall. Burly men lead a frightened Joe Chill down the hall, camera lights flashing and paparazzi shouting questions at the free criminal.

The older Bruce stepped forward, the gun sliding into his palm with a practiced ease. His eyes were focused on his prey, watching in anticipation as the man walked within his range. His arm twitched, the muscles contracting as his arm prepared to move.

"Hey Joe! Joe! Falcone says hi."

Suddenly it was over. The gunshot masked by the flashing lights and yells of the paparazzi. The older Bruce watched, his eyes transfixed on the sight in front of him as his younger-self hid behind Superman and Flash. Both heroes could feel him shudder, his hands tightening in Clark's cape. A woman attempted to pull on the older Wayne's arm, but he shook her off.

"I need to see this…."

And then the scenery was changing again, the people and buildings vanishing before their eyes. Flash looked around him, watching as the old buildings of the last memory were replaced by even older looking examples of architecture. Trashcan-fires lighted the area; men covered in rags huddled around them for warmth. He looked down at Bruce to see the young boy's face set in determination.

An older Bruce suddenly appeared, walking forward towards the building in front of them. The door was opened and he was grabbed roughly and thrown inside. They could no longer see him.

The younger Bruce sighed, walking forward until he was able to look into a grime-covered window. The other three crowded around him, each of them watching Bruce as he was pushed roughly into a booth with another man.

"Who's that?" Wally asked, wiping some of the dirt from the window.

"Falcone. He used to be one of the biggest mob bosses in Gotham City. He controlled everything. I was stupid to even think of going in there. I could have gotten myself killed, and no one in there would have even cared."

"What are you talking to him about?" Diana questioned, placing a comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"I wanted him to know I wasn't afraid of him. He told me how foolish I was, and how I haven't seen the world yet. How I had everything handed to me since I was born. He was right, and I knew it." The words came from his mouth on a sigh, as if the energy to produce them was more than he could bear.

They all remained silent, not knowing what to say to the boy beside them. They were all beginning to realize how little they knew of their friend.

The door beside them slammed open, making them jump. They looked up to see Bruce be thrown out the door. The young man picked himself up, looking back at the bar once before running off into an alleyway.

Bruce motioned for them to follow and ran after his counterpart. They found the older Bruce removing his coat and trading it with a homeless man.

"You had better be careful who sees you in that coat." Bruce spoke gently, patting the other man on the shoulder.

"Why?" The man tugged on the lapels of the coat and rolled his shoulders, smiling softly at the feeling of the cotton against his skin.

"They're going to come looking for me."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

The homeless man shrugged and warmed his hands on the fire as Bruce ran away from him, from everything.

"It's a nice coat."

_**I will try to keep my updates consistent.**_

_**I am a teenager, that means homework, stress, and PARENTS are able to keep me from updating but I will promise to do my best.**_

_**I really need help coming up with the next memory…should it be him meeting Al Ghul? Or should it be him training with Al Ghul? Anything before that you want to see? Let me know!**_

_**I need more reviews! I am a review junkie and you people are my suppliers! I need my next "fix", if you will XD… no, but seriously, I do love reviews and would love to have a few more. Even if they're just to tell me "Hi." It just gives me an idea of how many people are actually reading this….**_


	4. Chapter 3 finished

_**Edit: It isn't much but I wanted to finish this chapter quickly. I hope I don't disappoint any of you but I really want to start on the next chapter. It'll be more interesting than this one. **_

_**A/N: Just wanted to let you know, in this story Bruce is NOT Christian Bale. I am basing him much more on the animated version's appearance. Bale is just a bit too small and thin for my liking, plus that growl….ugh. So please imagine Conroy's voice and animated appearance but Bale Batman's story-line. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Batman or any other people mentioned except my imaginary friend Batman….he's awesome by the way XD**_

_**Chapter 3**_

Bruce pushed Clark away before standing shakily and faced Diana and Flash. "Sorry, but we should go. I don't want to be here anymore." He looked back once at the bodies of his parents before walking forward.

Flash ran and caught up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Whoa! Hold up, maybe you should tell us where we're going first."

Bruce turned to face them, "The next memory, as we walk we'll be going forward in time. I don't bother with most of my _childhood. _Nothing valuable to _him_, so I know he won't be there."

"How far are we going forward in time?" Diana asked, watching as Bruce's brow furrowed.

"About twelve years or so. It's…it's his **trial.**" Bruce shuddered, but continued walking forward.

"Who's trial?"

Bruce looked back again, "His."

The courthouse was ancient, nearly as old as the city itself. Inside, equally old paintings hung on the wall, adding little décor to the antique building.

Bruce Wayne stood in front of the building, looking up at it with solemn eyes. He was much older now; his hair, once a golden brown was now a raven-black. His hazel eyes had lightened, becoming a dull teal. He had become tall and broad shouldered but he lacked the muscle he would later build. His shoulders were slumped, his posture bent. His hand was burrowed in his pocket, fingering something absentmindedly.

Young Bruce stepped forward, walking past the people crowded in the halls, his memory counterpart walking just ahead of him. He turned to look back at them every few moments or so, a weary but determined look on his young face. They stopped at the entrance to the hearing room, joining the others that had gathered outside the door.

He turned suddenly; at the same moment the older Bruce did; gazing down the hall. A small man was being escorted towards them by two police officers. The younger Bruce shied away, hiding behind Wally as he passed, gazing up at him with wide and fearful eyes. "That's him." He murmured, waiting several moments as the man walked away before following the crowd into the court room.

They sat in an empty row behind the older Bruce, watching carefully as the hearing began. Bruce sat between Clark and Diana, his hands clenched together tightly in his lap. He fidgeted nervously when Chill stood.

"Your Honor, not a day goes by that I don't wish I could take back what I did. Sure, I was desperate, like a lot of people back then but that don't change what I did." Chill said, his voice filled with a deep sense of regret.

Bruce glared at him, tears beginning to cloud his vision. "I hate you." He whispered.

"I gather there is a member of the Wayne family here today?" The judge asked, a bored and vacant expression on his face.

Bruce suddenly looked up as his older self stood, both of them staring at Chill with a hidden rage. Bruce suddenly stood up, brushing past his friends as his older self walked out of the building, following him closely. They stood outside watching silently as the elder Bruce closed his eyes wearily. Younger Bruce looked up at his older self. "Which one of us are you?" He murmured, his eyes narrowing when the older version's hand went to his pocket again. The older Bruce sighed, his free hand running through his darker hair wearily. His other hand suddenly grasped what he had been fingering in his pocket and he pulled it out with a slightly fearful expression.

Younger Bruce gasped, shying away from his older self when he saw the small gun lying in his counterpart's palm. "I-I remember that. I hated carrying it….it was so heavy in my hand. But…at the same time…I could feel its power. The power it gives to whoever holds it. And I-I liked it; I liked feeling that power, knowing I could end someone's life with a small amount of pressure to a simple metal trigger. It was horrible, feeling that way, it made me no better than **him** and I knew that…and I…I didn't care. I wanted him dead, I wanted to kill him with my own hands, to make him suffer the same way my parents had, a slow and painful death." Bruce shivered, his arms wrapping around his trembling form.

Clark looked down at his younger friend. "I know." He didn't know what to say, there was nothing he could do to comfort his young friend. So he pulled the boy close, feeling the smaller hands grasp his cape once more as he looked for any small amount of comfort.

"I don't ever want to feel that way again Clark."

Clark glanced down at Bruce, seeing the child's eyes were focused on his counterpart. He looked up at the older Bruce as well, seeing the younger man study the gun, a small smile on his face. Clark shivered; the man before them was lost, he was nothing like the man he would become. This man was entwined with the darkness within him. The Bruce he knew had learned to control it, to wield his darkness as a weapon. It was what made him so powerful; his ability to look deep into the abyss, knowing that it was looking back into him and be able to keep looking. Lesser men turned away, not having the courage to let it stare back into them and see them as they truly are; Bruce had mastered it.

"Woah! What's going on?" Flash exclaimed as the sudden flashes of cameras diverted their attention from the memory Bruce to another man down the hall. Burly men lead a frightened Joe Chill down the hall, camera lights flashing and paparazzi shouting questions at the free criminal.

The older Bruce stepped forward, the gun sliding into his palm with a practiced ease. His eyes were focused on his prey, watching in anticipation as the man walked within his range. His arm twitched, the muscles contracting as his arm prepared to move.

"Hey Joe! Joe! Falcone says hi."

Suddenly it was over. The gunshot masked by the flashing lights and yells of the paparazzi. The older Bruce watched, his eyes transfixed on the sight in front of him as his younger-self hid behind Superman and Flash. Both heroes could feel him shudder, his hands tightening in Clark's cape. A woman attempted to pull on the older Wayne's arm, but he shook her off.

"I need to see this…."

And then the scenery was changing again, the people and buildings vanishing before their eyes. Flash looked around him, watching as the old buildings of the last memory were replaced by even older looking examples of architecture. Trashcan-fires lighted the area; men covered in rags huddled around them for warmth. He looked down at Bruce to see the young boy's face set in determination.

An older Bruce suddenly appeared, walking forward towards the building in front of them. The door was opened and he was grabbed roughly and thrown inside. They could no longer see him.

The younger Bruce sighed, walking forward until he was able to look into a grime-covered window. The other three crowded around him, each of them watching Bruce as he was pushed roughly into a booth with another man.

"Who's that?" Wally asked, wiping some of the dirt from the window.

"Falcone. He used to be one of the biggest mob bosses in Gotham City. He controlled everything. I was stupid to even think of going in there. I could have gotten myself killed, and no one in there would have even cared."

"What are you talking to him about?" Diana questioned, placing a comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"I wanted him to know I wasn't afraid of him. He told me how foolish I was, and how I haven't seen the world yet. How I had everything handed to me since I was born. He was right, and I knew it." The words came from his mouth on a sigh, as if the energy to produce them was more than he could bear.

They all remained silent, not knowing what to say to the boy beside them. They were all beginning to realize how little they knew of their friend.

The door beside them slammed open, making them jump. They looked up to see Bruce be thrown out the door. The young man picked himself up, looking back at the bar once before running off into an alleyway.

Bruce motioned for them to follow and ran after his counterpart. They found the older Bruce removing his coat and trading it with a homeless man.

"You had better be careful who sees you in that coat." Bruce spoke gently, patting the other man on the shoulder.

"Why?" The man tugged on the lapels of the coat and rolled his shoulders, smiling softly at the feeling of the cotton against his skin.

"They're going to come looking for me."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

The homeless man shrugged and warmed his hands on the fire as Bruce ran away from him, from everything.

"It's a nice coat."

_**I will try to keep my updates consistent.**_

_**I am a teenager, that means homework, stress, and PARENTS are able to keep me from updating but I will promise to do my best.**_

_**I really need help coming up with the next memory…should it be him meeting Al Ghul? Or should it be him training with Al Ghul? Anything before that you want to see? Let me know!**_

_**I need more reviews! I am a review junkie and you people are my suppliers! I need my next "fix", if you will XD… no, but seriously, I do love reviews and would love to have a few more. Even if they're just to tell me "Hi." It just gives me an idea of how many people are actually reading this….**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**_

_**Okay, so I just wanted to put this up to let you know I'm not dead and I haven't given up on this fic yet...this isn't a chapter, merely a preview of one. So enjoy. **_

"So where we going now?"

Bruce looked up, shrugging his shoulders lightly before sitting down on the pavement. "Somewhere I don't want to go."

Clark raised an eyebrow at the boy before sitting down next to him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "And why would that be?"

"I've done some things I'm not proud of...more than this..." Bruce gestured lazily at the bar behind them.

Flash cocked his head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well...it's like Falcone said..I really didn't know how the world worked yet. Besides not having parents I had everything handed to me since I was born. I had more than one hundred times what the average person in Gotham had. So I went on the run."

As he spoke the scenery around them began to change, the darkness of Night quickly becoming the bright Day as brightly colored buildings sprang up all around them. The streets began to fill with people and street vendors suddenly lined the roads.

Bruce looked up, glancing around before sighing wearily and standing. "Come on, this way." He led them down an alleyway towards an industrial center. "I'm over there." He pointed to a thin, raven-haired man laying on the side of the cement. An Asian man was sitting next to him, both laughing and talking in a language only Bruce could understand.

"What are you talking to him about?" Superman asked, not looking at the boy as he gazed at his friend in confusion. He had never seen him look so thin and so dirty. He looked as if he hadn't eaten or washed in days. His face was dark, covered in dirt and days worth of stubble.

"The heist we're planning together. We're joking about how stupid the security men are." The boy blushed and looked away, embarrassed at his counterpart's behavior.

"You stole? You _organized_ a heist?" Flash raced over to the older Bruce Wayne, peering at him curiously.

"I told you I did some things I'm not proud of!" Bruce shouted, feeling somewhat betrayed as his friends gazed at him with a mix of disappointment and confusion.

"Why are you doing this though? I don't really understand..."

Bruce sighed, "You wouldn't Princess." He paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. " It's was like putting my mind in the body of a criminal. That's why I can read them so well now. Because I've been in their shoes, I've thought the same thoughts they have. I've felt what they feel every time they perform an illegal act. I know what it's like to be starving. I know the fear of being caught and the thrill of success. I've been through it all." He looked up again and glanced around, his older self and the other man had gone. "Come on, he isn't here."


End file.
